


Touch

by borrowed_veins



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: American Harry, American Louis, Lawyer Louis, M/M, Massage Therapist Harry, No Smut, Non-Sexual Touching, Nudity, Smoking, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:42:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25229287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borrowed_veins/pseuds/borrowed_veins
Summary: "I have a friend who set up a massage therapy practice not too long ago, so he’s building up his clientele list, and I could get you a really good deal.”Louis opened his mouth, not even sure yet whether the words coming out were going to be an acceptance or refusal, but Liam persisted, “Plus, I figure we’re lawyers, we live and breathe stress, so maybe it’s something that might help you?"*Louis's life as a new lawyer has never been lonelier, and then he meets Harry.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 1
Kudos: 31





	Touch

**Author's Note:**

> This work is not betaed. It was mostly written during lockdown, so this is very much Dedicated to Touching. I think of it a bit like literary ASMR, but have no idea if anyone else would agree with me on that. No plot; touching and fluff only.

“Good work on that settlement, Tomlinson.”

Louis tried not to jump too violently at the feeling of a hand landing heavily on his shoulder. The coffee he’d been pouring into his mug sloshed onto the countertop, but he ignored it to turn and face his boss. 

“Thank you, sir. With your approval, I’ll start collecting signatures.”

“Yes, do that. Oh, what a relief; it would have been a messy trial. I’m glad you got the plaintiff to come down so low. I’m not sure our clients would have had such a good turn out if it had been up to a jury,” Louis’s boss paused, considering. “You know, you’re really proving yourself to be an asset to this firm.”

Louis did his best to school his features. He knew that his boss had taken a bit of a gamble when hiring him. He had just passed his state bar exam not two weeks before the interview, and all of his mentors and references were three states away. He’d moved to town with his boyfriend, who’d gotten a job at the local university that was too good to pass up, and he’d showed up without a single connection to anyone in his field in a six hundred mile radius. His boss had liked his interview, and his phone calls with his references, and he’d landed the position as an associate attorney at the small corporate law firm. 

When his boyfriend decided he hated the town, the university, and his job, and he left to go back home, Louis had known that he was getting experience that few recent law graduates would be getting at massive firms. He felt needed here, vital to the work they were doing. So he stayed, and they tried to make it work for a few months, but it turned out that their relationship wasn’t strong enough to handle the distance, after all.

It made Louis feel even more alone, to have a long-distance relationship for a while, where his main tether to another person was digital, hundreds of miles away, and then to have that tether snap. 

“Thank you, sir,” Louis repeated. “I’m glad to be here.”

“I certainly hope that’s true,” his boss responded, slapping him on the shoulder one more time before walking out of the kitchenette. 

Louis turned back to the coffee spill, grabbing a paper towel to soak up the liquid.

“I hope you remind him he said that the next time the topic of raises comes up,” Louis heard from behind him. Liam stepped into the room with his own empty coffee mug, and a smile on his face.

“Maybe I’ll be able to pull the security footage and keep a recording of it on me at all times,” Louis returned, with faux seriousness.

Liam’s eyes widened, darting from the fridge to the microwave. “Are there cameras in this room?”

“Pretty sure they’re just in the lobby.” Louis gestured to Liam’s empty mug, to hand it over so he could fill it up. “Why? What trouble are you getting into in the kitchenette?”

“None!” Liam squeaked, turning a slight pink. Louis filed the knowledge away for later, shooting a harmless smile Liam’s way. “Anyway,” Liam continued, too loudly, “I also wanted to congratulate you on the settlement. Not only did you manage to talk down their side, but you also had to deal with one of our most frustrating clients for the last fourteen months straight.”

“It was a bit of a nightmare, yeah,” Louis laughed, glad to be commiserating. 

“I want to get you a gift, a congratulatory gift, but I wanted to check with you first to see if it’s something you might be interested in. I have a friend who set up a massage therapy practice not too long ago, so he’s building up his clientele list, and I could get you a really good deal.” Louis opened his mouth, not even sure yet whether the words coming out were going to be an acceptance or refusal, but Liam persisted, “Plus, I figure we’re lawyers, we live and breathe stress, so maybe it’s something that might help you? I know it helps me to relax sometimes, especially when I’ve been going really hard at the gym and my shoulder starts to act up, although I don’t know if you have any particular issues like that, which isn’t to say you wouldn’t benefit from a massage anyway.” Liam broke off, just a little out of breath.

A smile had begun to form on Louis’s face as he listened to Liam speak. They weren’t close, and Louis knew him mostly as the hard worker two offices down, the only other associate attorney whose late nights at the office rivaled Louis’s own. To see him become flustered while simply trying to offer Louis a gift discomfited him a bit - he knew he hadn’t been the most social in the months since the breakup, but he hoped that his own coworkers knew that he at least liked them. He made a decision.

“It’s okay, Liam, you don’t need to rationalize it for me. I think that sounds like a lovely gift, thank you.” Louis smiled reassuringly at Liam, even though his mind was already working. He had never had a massage before, and probably never would have even chosen to get one on his own. He was sure there would be protocols he wasn’t aware of, and he didn’t like going into situations where he didn’t have all the information. There must be some sort of primer on what to expect online, he would just have to Google it later. 

“Oh, that’s great! Harry is, like, some sort of miracle worker with those hands of his.” 

*

As it turned out, Harry had availability that very Saturday, and while it left Louis feeling like he didn’t have quite enough time to prepare, he accepted the appointment. 

Standing in his closet half an hour before he was supposed to be at Harry’s office, or studio, as Louis still wasn’t sure what to call it, Louis contemplated various outfit possibilities. He knew he was being fairly ridiculous, as his research has indicated that he would be changing out of these clothes pretty much as soon as he arrived, but he wanted to make a nice impression for Liam’s friend, which meant choosing something practical as well as stylish - in this instance, something easy to take off and put back on after, and comfortable enough to not immediately take him out of his relaxed state after, like a turtleneck trying to choke him out, or something like that. He finally settled on some red and black trackies with a white tee and a red jacket over. 

He was pretty sure he knew where he was going, but plugged in the address Liam gave him to his GPS anyway. He had timed it perfectly; he wasn’t one to normally run early, but he knew he wouldn’t want to inconvenience Liam’s friend by making him wait. Upon arrival, he walked into the strip mall suite only a bit warily. The business name across the door had something about “green” and “health” or maybe “wellness”, and he wasn’t sure he didn’t accidentally walk into a dispensary. There wasn’t a bell over the door, but nonetheless as he shut it behind him, a deep voice called out from behind another doorway, “just a minute!”

Louis took a moment to look around, trying to keep himself occupied. The walls we filled with art, mostly abstract work in bold colors. Each had their own little tag with a name, artist, and price. There was a desk, presumably for cashing out, but behind it was a bookshelf filled beyond capacity with books, although Louis was too far away to make out any names. The floors were a warm brown hardwood, and the furniture a mismatched jumble of greens and burnt oranges that looked soft and velvety. These elements, with natural lighting streaming through a tie-dyed covering on the window, gave an overall effect of belonging to someone very artsy hippy, Louis thought. It wasn’t something he would ever say he was drawn to on his own, but he had to admit that it had a cozy feeling to it. Even the incense burning, normally a scent he hated, seemed to fit the rest of the ambiance in a pleasing way. 

Finally, the voice reappeared, saying, “I’m so sorry, I’m just running a little bit late this morning.” The man who finally stepped into the doorway was not the hippie Louis was expecting. He didn’t have hair halfway down his back, or a tie dye t-shirt on, but instead wore a black set of scrubs and had hair that curled around his ears and forehead. He smiled at Louis, revealing the deepest set of dimples Louis thought he’d ever seen, and Louis almost forgot to respond, brushing off the wait time. They exchanged a greeting and Louis learned that this was, in fact, Liam’s friend Harry.

“If you could just follow me this way,” Harry said, gesturing Louis through the doorway. They crossed through another room that was empty of furniture but had art lining the walls. 

“This is such an interesting space, is it yours?” Louis asked, making conversation to calm his sudden nerves.

“No, actually, I just rent out the one room I use for my practice. The rest of it operates as an art gallery and community space. I usually try to book my schedule around their openings and activities so any noise they make won’t disrupt my clients, but they do some really cool stuff.” They had made their way into a room in the back corner of the gallery as Harry spoke, and he turned around to look Louis right in the eyes. “I’m going to step out of the room while you get undressed - just take off or leave on whatever makes you feel most comfortable. Then, get under the sheet here,” Harry gestured to the massage table set up in the center of the room without taking his eyes off Louis. “We’re going to start with you face up, so lie down on your back, please. Do you have any questions?”

Louis didn’t, so Harry let him know he’d knock before re-entering, and left the room.

As soon as the door shut behind Harry, Louis spared no time seating himself in the chair pushed against the wall near a small side table, which housed only a small soft-lit lamp. He started with his shoes, then the thick white socks, stuffing each into the corresponding shoe. 

He then removed his wallet, and keys from his pockets, and placed them on the table. He knew he always kept his phone on vibrate, but double-checked just to be sure, before placing it face-down on the table, as well. Then, he imagined the phone vibrating against the wood surface if he got a text or call would be disruptive to his technician, Harry, and moved to stuff it into one of his shoes.

He stripped off his jacket and t-shirt quickly, folding them not-quite-neatly and placing them on the seat of the chair when he stood. He pulled off his sweatpants and added them to his stack of clothes, then hesitated with a hand at the elastic waistband of his boxer-briefs. He hadn’t made a decision yet, when he put them on that morning, whether he would be leaving them on for his appointment. For that reason, he had chosen a tight pair with a short inseam, so that they wouldn’t be in the way, should he leave them on. He knew he shouldn’t waste too much time, in case Harry, thinking he’s done, comes back into the room. Louis found himself thinking that, even though Harry would be seeing and touching his bare skin on purpose just a few minutes later, him barging in on accident would somehow still be embarrassing. Still, he waffled over whether to remove his underwear, not sure if he would be able to relax all the way if he knew he was completely naked in a new situation with a stranger, and an attractive one, at that. At the same time, he reminded himself that he was being silly. He was a grown adult, not some awkward teenager, and Harry was a professional, and had likely seen dozens of naked clients. Besides, he told himself, he was comfortable in his body like he had never been in his teens and early twenties - he had never had that gym-rat physique or been model-slender, and accepted that he never would, because his body was his, and that was enough.

He decided he was being dramatic, and quickly slipped off his underwear, stuffing them into the middle of the pile of clothes he’d created. With that last article of clothing gone, he suddenly became aware of his nakedness in a way that he doesn’t in the comfort of his own home, skin prickling everywhere it was exposed - which truly was everywhere. It was early spring outside, but the room itself wasn’t cold or drafty. It was actually on the small side, so a little fan was running in the corner, probably to keep it from getting too warm and stuffy. The gentle breeze raised goosebumps across his upper arms and thighs, now exposed to the air.

He shuffled over to the table where Harry indicated he should lay on his back - he hoped he was remembering correctly - and saw that the sheets, with a blanket draped over top, were folded down as though to welcome him in. He pulled the top sheet up and slid between them. They were clearly decent quality, as the thread count made it feel as though they were gliding across his skin, ruffling the coarse hairs along his legs. The material itself was cool, though not cold, and quickly warmed up with the heat of his body. It felt as though maybe there was another blanket, likely fleece like the one over the top sheet, tucked between the bottom sheet and the vinyl massage table. He felt his shoulders and spine sinking into the soft bed much more than he had expected - an expectation based solely on images of massage tables that came up in a Google search.

As it turned out, Louis had no need to be worried that Harry would walk in on him half dressed. Even once he was settled on the table, he had several minutes to himself. He took a moment to look around the room, as best as he could with the sheet and blanket draped almost all the way to his neck. He hadn’t noticed earlier, busy worrying about undressing, but the whole room had the same hippie vibe as in the lobby area, although softer and muted. There was a tabletop water fountain in the corner, just large enough for the water to make a soft babbling sound, which blended well with the instrumental music playing quietly through a pair of speakers. The fabric draped over the open window, although not a proper curtain, was a maroon tone that looked like it would feel soft between Louis’s fingertips. He couldn’t locate a source in his glance around, but there was either an essential oil diffuser, or possibly an incense burner, somewhere in the room, as the smell of eucalyptus, and maybe rosemary, tickled pleasantly at his nose.

Finally, a soft knock came at the door. Louis jumped just the slightest bit. He’d almost forgotten that he was waiting on Harry’s return.

“Louis, are you ready?”

“Oh um, yes,” he called out, hoping he was loud enough to carry through the door - of unknown thickness - but not too loud to disrupt the ambiance Harry clearly had tried so hard to create.

Harry opened the door with a gentle creak. 

“Alright, we can get started,” Harry said, settling himself into the rolling chair near Louis’s head. “Do you know what kind of pressure you like? Soft, normal, or firm?”

“Um,” Louis hesitated, looking up at Harry with a natural inclination to make eye contact with someone while he spoke to them, but Harry was fussing with something out of Louis’s line of sight. From his vantage point, Louis could only see the underside of his chin and up his nose, so he looked away somewhere into middle distance in the direction of the ceiling, “I don’t really know. I haven’t ever had a massage before.”

“No problem. I’ll do a medium amount of pressure, and you can let me know if you’d prefer less, or more. Do you have any particular areas of concern?”

“No,” Louis said almost on impulse, but took a second to think and decided that being honest would only benefit him, even if he would prefer to be able to tell this attractive, obviously in shape, young man that he works out on the regular. “I work a desk job, and I’m there for nine or ten hours a day most days, so pretty much my whole back aches all the time.”

“Oh yeah, that’ll definitely do that.” Harry smiled, sympathetic. “We can focus on the back muscles. Once we’re done here, I will send you with a couple of stretches and exercises that you can do to try to help that between sessions.”

Harry finally stopped his rustling around, and turned to look down at Louis. “I’m going to touch you now.”

Louis nodded, to the best of his ability with his neck craned to look up Harry’s nostrils again, then felt Harry’s hands come to rest on his shoulders near his ears. He hadn’t known going into this if he was supposed to keep his eyes open to remain alert to what was happening around him, as though keeping his eyes open was more professional somehow, but the moment he felt Harry’s hands against his skin, warm from the friction of rubbing them together, slick from the massage oil between them, and just the slightest bit rough, likely from doing this very thing all day, his eyelids fell shut. 

Harry let his hands just sit at the curve where Louis’s neck met his shoulders, resting them there while Louis acclimated to his touch. Then, he began to move them, stroking down that curve in sweeping motions. Louis could feel the way that Harry was manually directing him to relax, to let his shoulders fall away from his ears, where he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding them.

When Harry adjusted his hands so that only the flat of his fingertips were making contact with Louis’s skin, Louis wasn’t sure what to expect. The pull of his fingers up the sides of his neck to circle around the base of his skull was a sensation brand new to Louis. As Harry continued to massage the top vertebrae of his spine, Louis thought about how strange it was that there were parts of his body, which admittedly was not even very many square feet, that he was sure had never been touched before. 

But that can’t be right, he thought, as his haircuts must necessitate that the stylist touch him there. But still, it had been nothing like this. Harry’s hands on his neck, warm and unfamiliar, sent a tingle from the crown of Louis’s head down his spine. Louis fought a squirm, trying to keep his muscles relaxed.

Sooner than he would have liked, Harry shifted toward his right and began to excavate Louis’s arm from its place beneath the blankets. He never thought of arms as a place that would hold a lot of stress, but Harry’s rough fingers, again creating long, even strokes down his skin, created a calming sensation nonetheless. He had thought, going into this, that massage was a utilitarian practice, maybe like chiropractic medicine, where the purpose was only to release tight muscles and knots. Lying there with Harry’s incense burning and his hands firm but not painful on his skin, he realized he may have been wrong. 

Then, Harry moved on to Louis’s hand. He had shifted again, without Louis noticing, and began to link their fingers together so that Harry’s thumb would have convenient access to Louis’s palm, while also holding it steady. Louis’s heart spiked at the touch that was so familiar, yet so unusual in the angle and purpose, and tried to keep his arm relaxed.

“Relax your fingers for me,” Harry murmured, his low, deep voice clearly trying to maintain the aura of calm he had created with the ambiance. Louis attempted to obey, but found that he suddenly couldn’t recall the heavy feeling of calm Harry had managed to create in that arm. He must have done well enough, because Harry continued, digging his thumbs into the planes and mounds of Louis’s palm, nearly drawing out a groan from the lawyer. Long days spent typing at his computer and taking longhand notes had clearly affected the tendons and muscles in his hands, and he hadn’t even realized. 

As Harry moved to the other arm, Louis decided that he would give this massage his own best effort, although he hadn’t even realized he was preventing himself from fully relaxing. By the time Harry was moving on to his legs, he had stopped cataloguing every move he made, in favor of letting the sensation wash over him. 

He allowed himself to break the silence only once, asking if he could move his arms back underneath the blankets, once he realized that goosebumps were starting to prickle all along the skin from wrist to shoulder in the cool, moving air from the fan. In the spirit of relaxation, he even attempted to refrain from worrying about whether he should disrupt the serene atmosphere Harry had created with his speaking voice. He had decided that Harry would want him to be as comfortable as possible, and how was he to know that Louis runs cold?

As Harry massaged each leg, pulling them out from the blankets one at a time to work on them individually, Louis fell back into his relaxed state. This was much more like what he was expecting when he walked in, warm hands on tight muscles drawing out an aching relief. He hadn’t been playing soccer as much as he used to, and found that whenever he would play, his muscles, unfamiliar with the exertion, would take ages afterward to reach a state of equilibrium again. Just another thing on his list of reasons why being in his late twenties was even harder than he’d anticipated.

“Okay,” Harry said, drawing Louis back into the moment. “I’m going to lift up the blankets like a curtain, so that you can turn over onto your front.” He spoke the sentence in a practiced manner, like he said it the same way for every client, which Louis was sure he did, but he still waited for Louis’s acknowledgement that he understood the direction before proceeding with the lift. Louis caught a glimpse of Harry’s head turned away from him before he obscured it with the blankets held in outstretched arms. 

Louis made the adjustment as quickly and as gracefully as possible, which was not easy, but at least the table didn’t squeak. He really felt his nudity, suddenly having every inch exposed when he had become so used to the warmth of the blankets. He took a moment to adjust, making sure he wasn’t crushing anything sensitive, before relaxing all the way back down, slotting his face into the designated cushion. 

Harry, who must have been listening for Louis to go still, slowly lowered the blanket back down over him, tickling Louis’s bare skin for every inch it covered. From there, the rest of the massage went too fast for Louis’s taste. Harry’s rough, warm hands had felt amazing gliding over and pressing into all the places where sitting at a desk for so many hours a day had caused him to ache. 

It was almost a shock to Louis when Harry finally spoke two more sentences: “This concludes your massage today, Louis. Take your time getting dressed, and I will meet you out front.” 

Louis was glad that Harry had specified that he should take as much time as he needed to get dressed. It was several minutes before he felt like he had come back into his body enough to even get up from the table. He tried to be a bit quicker at putting on his clothes to make up for that time he spent just lying there, as he was sure that Harry had appointments after him, regardless of what he said about taking his time, but he felt a bit like he was moving in slow motion, as though in a dream. 

When he finally reached the front lobby area, Louis reminded himself that although Liam had paid for the session, he still needed to leave Harry a tip. He was glad he had researched ahead of time how much would be appropriate for a service like this, as he still felt like his brain was processing at half speed. In fact, he wanted to make small talk with Harry, ask how long he had been doing this, if he liked it, what he did about people who came in without having bathed recently, but found that, despite being Louis Tomlinson, who was well known for being able to talk to anybody about anything, none of the words would come. He listened as Harry instructed him to drink lots of water for the rest of the day, did his best to relay his gratitude for a job exceedingly well done, and made a vague reference to needing to come back sometime. 

The rest of Louis’s weekend passed quickly, and while he wasn’t quite able to maintain the level of calm he’d felt after leaving Harry’s studio on Saturday, by Sunday night he still felt more at peace with his life than he had in a while. The break up had been difficult for him. It goes without saying. He had uprooted his entire life for his ex, and they had built a new one from scratch just the two of them. They had dreamed up plans for their future, the exact type of house they wanted to buy once Louis was more established at his job, and hopefully gotten a raise. They’d discussed children. Louis hadn’t even noticed when their whole lives had begun to revolve around each other. Louis would start each morning making two cups of tea. He would make two sandwiches so each of them would have one to take for lunch. He had made an effort to learn to cook a handful of meals so they could trade off making dinner. When his ex had left and they were trying to make it long-distance, it had felt jarring the way their joint routine had changed to two entirely separate ones. He hadn’t felt lonely, then. Even though he had almost no idea what his ex was doing at any given time of day, the emotional connection that had remained had sustained him. He thought that if it had been up to him, the long distance arrangement would have worked. It was just unfortunate that his ex had barely even bothered to try. When they finally severed that last connection, the loneliness really began to sink in.

He didn’t have a lot of friends in his new city yet, just going between home and work every day. Before the massage, he couldn’t even name the last time someone had touched him for more than a friendly pat on the shoulder or a handshake. It was jarring to think about. He had always been affectionate, even casually with new friends and acquaintances. He hadn’t thought the break up had affected him so badly; he’d hardly cried much, didn’t mope around for more than two weeks, and yet it seemed he hadn’t even realized he had been behaving so differently from his usual self. Finally having snapped out of it, he felt newly determined to embrace the social part of him that he’d been neglecting. 

Monday morning, Liam greeted him in the office kitchen again with a polite hello.

“Morning, Liam. Nice weekend?”

“Yeah, it was really nice. Stayed home mostly, but no complaints here. How was yours?” Liam said, seeming almost surprised to be asked. Louis filed the thought away into his mind that he really should be making more of an effort with Liam. He has only ever been kind to Louis, but Louis had been so focused on burying himself in work that he hadn’t even bothered getting to know him.

“It was extremely nice. I had the massage, as you know, and it was just amazing.”

Liam’s eyes lit up. “Oh! I’m so glad you liked it. I told you Harry is a miracle worker.”

“Yes, I will absolutely have to book another session with him sometime. Thank you so much for sending me his way.” Louis paused, watching Liam’s face break into a smile at his praise. Then he added on, “Why don’t you let me take you out to the bar this weekend, as a proper thank you?”

“You don’t need to thank me. It was a gift,” Liam said, eyes bunching up with his smile. Louis tried not to feel disappointed at the rejection while Liam paused, but was relieved when he continued, “You know, my fiance and me were going to hit up that new brewery on Main Street this Friday with some friends. You could join us?”

As Louis accepted the invitation, he felt a sense of accomplishment in having secured his first out-of-work hang out with one of his co-workers. He was finally starting to feel a bit more like himself.

By the time Friday came around, Louis felt himself slipping back into old habits. He has been assigned a new Big Case after having secured the settlement in the last Big Case last week. It obviously wasn’t ideal, but if he could just take advantage of the quiet office for a few hours after everyone left, it would really put him in a good spot to begin next week-

A knock at his door cut off his planning.

“Louis, are you ready to head out to the brewery?” Liam’s voice sounded cheerful, and far too distracting.

“Actually,” Louis began, looking up from his computer. He saw the moment Liam’s smile started to slip from his face, ready to be told that Louis had too much to do and wouldn’t be able to join him. “Actually, I was just about to come looking for you.” 

*

By the time Louis and Liam arrived at the bar, Liam’s fiance Zayn, who Louis recognized from the office Christmas party, and another brunette man were already seated in a corner booth.

“Louis, glad you could join us,” Zayn said with a slight smile. Louis remembered that Zayn seemed reserved when they’d met before, and he was glad that the short conversation they’d had at the party was enough to, apparently, make Zayn remember him fondly.

“Zayn, it’s nice to see you again,” he replied, finding the words to be true. 

“Hi, I’m Niall. It’s nice to be meeting one of Liam’s work friends. We always get the impression that he works with a bunch of boring old lawyer types,” the third man said, holding out a hand for Louis to shake.

“Well, I am a lawyer, and I can be a bit boring at times. You’ll have to ask my joints about the old thing,” Louis replied, smiling.

As they sat down and continued talking, Louis felt like he was letting out a large sigh. He hadn’t known until the worry lifted, that he had been concerned that talking with people was the kind of skill that could be forgotten if neglected long enough. But it seemed that Liam, Zayn, and Niall were all laughing appropriately at his jokes, and welcoming him into their clearly established friendship. 

He was becoming quite comfortable, relaxed back into his chair with his pint in his hand, when Niall checked a message on his phone and announced, “Harry says he’s almost here. I guess an appointment ran long.”

“Harry the massage therapist?” Louis interjected, sitting forward immediately and turning toward Liam.

“Oh yeah, Liam mentioned he was booking you an appointment with Harry. How did that go?” Zayn’s voice sounded as neutral as possible, but there was a slight curl to his lips that almost made Louis blush at his reaction to Harry’s name.

“It went very well. Liam was right, as always. Harry is very skilled at what he does,” Louis replied, diplomatically. He tried to ignore the slight “mhm” he heard from Zayn’s corner of the booth as he spotted Harry making his way over. 

Louis couldn’t deny that he was looking forward to seeing Harry again. It didn’t make sense, necessarily, because they hadn’t had an opportunity to really get to know one another the first time they met, but Louis felt that he would like the opportunity to try. There was something about Harry that drew him in.

“Louis,” he exclaimed, finally making it within speaking distance, “I didn’t know you were coming!”

“Yeah, Liam invited me,” he replied with a smile, trying to power through the feeling of being the center of Harry’s attention, when he had so little preparation for the encounter. His hair looked fluffy today, likely from a full day of working, bouncing as he made the final few steps to the table. “How are you doing?”

“Good, you know. Keeping busy,” Harry said.

“Good,” Louis said, distracted by the way Harry’s cheeks dimpled as he smiled.

A soft cough came from the opposite end of the table, and Harry looked up and finally greeted the rest of his friends, all of whom were sporting slight grins, making Louis suddenly feel like he’s starring in a romantic comedy. Even though their moment had been broken, Louis noticed Harry throughout the evening making deliberate attempts to include Louis in the conversation, which Louis thought was kind of him, if a bit unnecessary, as Louis himself had no problem butting in with opinions of the gossip going around the table, even if he had no idea who they were talking about. 

Even not on the clock, Harry had a serene energy to him. Louis had never been one for believing in people’s auras or anything like that, but he couldn’t deny that Harry gave off a sense of calmness even now, in a crowded bar. Of course, the calm was interspersed with truly chaotic energy, as he always seemed to chime into the table’s conversation with thoughts and comments that Louis would never be able to predict, but appreciated nonetheless.

At a natural lull in the conversation, Harry stood, announcing that he was going to the bar to order another round for everyone. 

As soon as Harry was out of earshot, Liam and Zayn turned to Louis with matching smirks on their faces. 

“So, you really did enjoy that massage, didn’t you?” Liam asked, with good humor, clearly having picked up on the way Louis couldn’t quite bring himself to drag his eyes away from Harry every time the other man spoke - or when anyone else was speaking, to be honest.

“Liam! Don’t be distasteful, we were both completely professional the entire time,” Louis said, already feeling comfortable enough with Liam to take on a slight scolding tone, and be sure that Liam wouldn’t take offense. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Louis stood, ignoring the smirking expressions on his new friends’ faces, and smoothing down the front of his shirt. When he made his way to the bar, Harry was still standing waiting to be helped. 

“Harry,” he said, and feeling more confident by the way Harry immediately smiled upon realizing who was speaking to him. “I’m wondering if you might allow me to buy you a drink.”

In reaction, Harry’s brows creased together, just the slightest bit, “Louis, I’m already buying everyone drinks.”

Louis cleared his throat. “Well-” he began.

“Oh! You want to _buy me a drink_!” Harry exclaimed, relieving Louis of the necessity of explaining his intention. “Oh, thank God. I actually wanted to _buy you a drink_ , you know, and figured getting one for everyone else would be a good compromise.”

“What do you mean? Why compromise?” Louis asked.

“I was worried about pushing the boundaries of professionalism - you know, since we’ve only known each other in a professional context before this. I am your massage therapist, after all.” Harry smiled. 

“Well, you’re also Liam’s friend, and I’m not on your table at the moment.” Louis smirked at the light blush that comment evoked from Harry, and said, “I think it will be okay.”

After Louis placed their order, they each carried their drinks to a small table out of the way of most of the crowd. They settled into their chairs, much closer together than across the large booth before.

“How long have you been a masseuse?” Louis asked, opening the conversation on fairly neutral grounds.

“We tend to prefer massage therapist these days. It makes us sound a bit more like medical professionals, and a bit less like you’re going to be offered services off a special menu. Which, while not inherently bad, would certainly be false advertising in my case,” Harry broke off, not quite with a blush, but certainly aware that he was starting to ramble. 

“Alright,” Louis replied, not at all ready to get Harry to stop talking. “How long have you been a massage therapist, then?”

“A little over two and a half years since I got my certification, but when I first graduated I was working at that massage franchise over on Central Avenue. I’ve only been at the location you’ve been to for about a month and a half.”

“Ah, branching out on your own. Abandoning the corporate world. Brave of you,” Louis said with faux seriousness. Their eyes caught, sharing a small smile at the joke, making Louis feel like he had to rip his gaze away to properly listen as Harry continued speaking. 

“I don’t really think of it as brave. The franchise had so many rules about things that didn’t even matter, and the overall experience was almost clinical. It’s fine for clients who aren’t looking for the full experience, but it wasn’t what I’d always hoped I’d be doing,” he said.

“Well, I definitely don’t think that I could go to some stuffy, impersonal franchise now. Not having seen and experienced your set up,” Louis replied.

“I’m really glad you liked it, Louis,” Harry said, dimples showing once again. “Now, enough about my work, I sound like I’m angling for a Google review. Liam mentioned you’re new to the area?”

As they spoke, Louis found himself being drawn into Harry’s orbit. The sights and sounds of the bar around them slid over him but seemingly unable to reach him. Instead, it was like his whole world narrowed down to cataloguing the individual beard hairs growing across Harry’s jaw, the way his front teeth protruded slightly from the rest. He found Harry captivating in a way he couldn’t describe.

Finally, Louis broke the spell long enough to look at the time. It had been hours since his last smoke. With a quick question to Harry, the two made their way out into the bar’s patio area. The air was brisk, the heat of the day having faded with the sunlight. Louis pulled as much of his hands into his sweater as he could, leaving only his fingers exposed to the air. 

“I’m surprised you’re willing to stand around all this second-hand smoke. Isn’t that against all that your-body-is-a-temple stuff?”

Harry’s hand shot out, pulling a cigarette from Louis’s pack - Louis found that he didn’t mind Harry’s proprietary touch. “Life is about balance, Louis.”

The burst of laughter that emitted from Louis was not entirely within his control. He leaned forward with his lighter in hand, holding the flame to the end of the cigarette in Harry’s mouth. When Harry’s larger hands folded around his, warm and rough as he remembered, his eyes darted up to meet Harry’s. 

Harry let the touch linger, and Louis didn’t want to be the first to break the silence.

“Is it okay if I make something completely clear to you?” Harry asked, as serious as Louis had seen him all evening.

“‘Course,” Louis replied.

“I think it goes without saying now that of course I found you attractive from the moment you walked into my building, but I need you to know that I gave you the exact same massage I would have if that hadn’t been the case. I didn’t touch you differently just because I found you beautiful,” Louis felt Harry’s earnest gaze fixed upon him, and couldn’t have blinked even if he’d tried. He filed away the compliment to address when Harry was feeling less clearly conflicted. “And I wouldn’t have tried to contact you for a date or anything if we hadn’t run into each other in a non-work setting.”

Louis paused just long enough to make sure Harry was done speaking before replying. “I trust that one-hundred percent, although I understand why you’d be wary of it coming across that way.” Louis paused, before adding in a joking tone, “You do touch naked people for a living. You were so professional, I would never have known that you thought I was beautiful.” Louis couldn’t help the smile that broke out on his face.

Harry’s hand, still cupped around Louis’s, shifted, interlocking their fingers and letting their arms drop between them, bringing their bodies even closer together. From this close, Louis had to look up to look Harry in the eye. They were close enough for him to see each one of Harry’s eyelashes, freckles making patterns across his cheeks, close enough to feel the heat of Harry’s body, even through their clothes. It made the cool night air feel even colder, the contrast between the chill and Harry’s warmth, hand feeling like fire wrapped around Louis’s own. Goosebumps broke out across his skin as the giddy feeling in his chest, present through their whole evening together, expanded, with a sensation like his ribs would crack from the inside with the effort of containing it. He smiled, almost involuntarily, as though to release some of the pressure.

“Do they teach you magic at massage therapy school? Infuse the magic directly into your hands, maybe?”

“What? No, it’s mostly how not to hurt yourself with repetitive motion injuries,” Harry paused, eyebrows coming together in a frown, “and of course how not to hurt clients. Why?”

“It’s just that, you aren’t even doing any of your fancy massage moves, you’re just holding my hand,” Louis stopped to fight another smile, “but your touch still feels unlike anyone else.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I am posting this a bit impulsively because it doesn't really feel "finished" until I put it somewhere. I want to get back into writing (creatively) after an almost 10 year lull, so this is just me trying to stretch out those unused muscles. So, I hope anyone who got this far got something enjoyable from the experience.


End file.
